Britain wants to know what you're looking at |
“Get your thieving hands off my fucking glass,” was the nation’s immediate response to the Commons science and technology committee’s concerns about the misery and physical consequences of alcoholism. It swiftly followed up by lashing out with Scotland, which fell off.
“I can give up any fucking time I like, see? Only I’ll do it when I feel like it, not when some jumped-up little Hitler tells me,” Britain earnestly told Canada, which it insists is its best friend in the world, ever. “Oh look, footy. Fucking sorted. Pass us another Special Brew there, mate.”
Five minutes later, however, a bloodied and soiled Britain was lying in the middle of the Atlantic, after unwisely convincing itself that Canada had nicked its pint.
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